


It's a Wonderful Life

by kapplebougher



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Evakteket Challenge, Holiday movie AU, It's a Wonderful Life, M/M, Mistletoe, gingerbread
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-17 22:46:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13086999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kapplebougher/pseuds/kapplebougher
Summary: "Think of it as a film, Even," she said, stepping closer. "What I'm about to show you, is one made just for you. Except this time, you are not the director.""You say that like I ever was," he said, more bitterness creeping into his tone than he’d expected."Oh, you are,” she assured him. “Much more than you would think. But you won't be in this one.""Why not?""Because in this one, you don't exist."Or, an It's a Wonderful Life AU, where Even believes the world would be better off without his existence. With the help of an angel though, he comes to realize that just maybe - that may not be entirely true.





	It's a Wonderful Life

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> I wrote this for the Evakteket Christmas Challenge, and the 3 prompts I got were Holiday Movie AU, Caught Under the Mistletoe, and Gingerbread. Ahh I'm hella nervous for this one but I hope y'all like it!
> 
> Please note: The holiday movie AU I chose to use was It's a Wonderful Life. If you aren't familiar with the plot, just be aware that the main plot of the story involves a man considering suicide on Christmas Eve, and his guardian angel is sent to show him how differently his town would have turned out had he not existed.  
> So please note the tw's below! The beginning of this fic is a little darker than most Christmas fics (sorry rip), but I tried to make it up with as much Christmassy feels as I could towards the end!
> 
> TW: Depression, Mental Illness, Suicidal Thoughts
> 
> also I am posting this at 4am and this is not proofread nearly enough smh but I didn't wanna miss the deadline so if u see an error please forgive me

_Buzz-buzz._

When Even found the strength to open his eyes, the room was dark.

Just as it had been, for the last three? Four days? He wasn’t even sure anymore. The days and nights had a way of muddling into one another when his mind and limbs were heavy like this, just as the minutes faded into hours.

_Buzz-buzz._

On his bedside table, his phone was alight with notifications. From where he was lying he could just make out the names at the top of some of them: his mother, Mikael, Elias, his mother again. His gaze drifted over all of them to the very top of the screen.

**08:38  
søndag 24. desember**

He closed his eyes again, the loud blue-white light of the screen a little too much, now. A heavy breath slipped out. Breathe in, out.

In, out.

In…

He should reply to his mother, at least. He knew that she, especially, would be worried, given the way he’d ended his last call with her. But as it was, she was always worried about him.

Out.

He forced himself to lift the blankets enough to draw his hand out into the frigid air – he had been meaning to turn his thermostat up for days now, but that also meant getting out of bed in the first place – and slid his phone off the table. Underneath the notifications that he’d seen, there were more names he hadn’t noticed before: Sonja, Yousef.

Five emails, one from his boss. He hadn’t shown up to work since last Thursday. Shit.

Deeming Elias the easiest and least painless to deal with for now, Even slid his messages open first.

**ELIAS**

> Sorry to hear that bro, we’ll miss you. Have a good Christmas Eve, though!

Even scrolled up, seeing his own text where he’d told Elias he wouldn’t be making it to the Christmas party Sana and her friends were throwing tonight. Scrolling back down, he saw follow-up text from Elias he hadn’t noticed before.

 

> Are you ok?

Even held back a sigh. So, Mikael had gotten to him. That would explain the notification from Yousef, too. Leaving Elias’ message unanswered, he went to open Yousef’s instead.

**YOUSEF**

 

> Mikael told me what happened  
>  How are you holding up?

And then another one, a few hours later:

 

> Elias said you’re not coming to the party?  
>  Are you sure? It might help get your mind off things :)  
>  You don’t even have to worry about bringing the cookies, Mutta and Adam have promised not to be mad if you don’t have them

Even left the messages unanswered, mechanically opening Mikael’s texts next.

**MIKAEL**

> Bro I know what you’re thinking but you’re wrong  
>  The film festival’s being run by different people this year. It’s a bunch of old women, the entire submission process is fucked  
>  Yours would have definitely gotten in if it hadn’t been for them

> **Missed Call**  
>  Are you awake?

> Even?  
>  **Missed Call**

> You don’t have to come to the party tonight but at least answer. It’s been 2 days bro

> Ok. We’re giving you till 16 and if you don’t answer someone your mother will break down your door  
>  Kidding. Seriously though, answer us?

> Ok actually not kidding. Your mom’s serious

Wincing a little now, Even hesitantly opened up his mother’s conversation. There were texts upon texts, ranging from the sweet, check-up texts in the beginning—

**MAMMA**

> Hi baby, is everything okay? Haven’t heard from you in a while <3

to the concerned—

 

> I talked to Mikael. It doesn’t mean anything, shake it off! Celebrate Christmas. Enjoy the holidays, and you can start fresh for the New Years!

to the slightly panicky—

> Why aren’t you answering calls? Are you okay?

to the very last few messages, where she finally put her foot down.

> I’ll give you until 16 to call me back. If not I’m coming over

All of the messages were scattered between dozens of missed phone calls.

Feeling more and more increasingly heavy-limbed, Even slid over to Sonja’s messages.

**SONJA**

> Hi, Even. Just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas. I would come visit you myself except Kris and I are visiting his family for Christmas up in Bergen and I won’t be in Oslo for a while. Hope everything’s okay with you.

And then another message, sent a few hours after the first one had gone unanswered:

> How have you been doing?

Even swallowed. Even after over a year of being broken up, she was still worried about him.

As was everyone else. It was all he seemed good for, most days. He couldn’t seem to manage to keep his own life together, so he’d dragged everyone else down with him in his mess, too. He wondered if there would be any point that he _wasn’t_ be a burden to those around him. For all it was worth, he could hardly not manage to be a burden to himself.

 _Start fresh for the New Year_ , his mother had said in her messages. Even wondered exactly what the point even was to that – as far as he could see, there was no point to it. No way out.

Everything he’d worked for, everything he’d dreamed of…it was all gone.  

His phone buzzed again and he shut the screen off without looking at the notification, finding a small relief in the fact that the harsh light was no longer searing into his eyes. He didn’t know what he wanted, he didn’t know what to do. All he knew was that he wanted _out_ , he wanted out from it all: the rejection letters, the emails that started with “ _We thank you for your submission”_ followed by “ _unfortunately”_ or “ _we regret to inform you_ ” a few sentences later. He wanted _out_ from his aching feet from taking double back-to-back shifts, opening shifts and closing shifts in the same day, saving up all the money for a program he hadn’t even gotten into anyway. He wanted out from feeling like a waste of space, a disappointment, an embarrassment, from dragging all his family and friends down with him from worry…

It would have all been easier if he simply hadn’t existed. For him, his friends, his family. It would have saved everyone a whole lot of pain.

But unfortunately, he wasn’t. He was alive, though he didn’t feel like it. His mind felt empty and like it weighed a thousand pounds all at once. He couldn’t bear it.

His phone buzzed again.

Even rolled over, pulled the sheets over his head, and closed his eyes.

 

 

When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer in his room. He wasn’t in his bed, either.

He was standing at the end of an aisle inside a large, carnivorous room, with high ceilings and colored windows. A church, he realized after a moment. The only light in the place came from the hundreds of candles that lined the walls and the sides of the pews, along with the ethereal glow that came from the neon blue crosses that lit the way to the altar. The setting looked familiar, but before he could try and place where he’d seen it before, he was distracted by a slight movement at the from of the church.

At the foot of the altar stood an angel.

He stared at her, unblinking, for a few long seconds. Then he closed his eyes and opened them again, convinced he was seeing things. But no, she was still there. When she didn’t move after another ten or so seconds of staring, Even decided to finally approach her. She didn’t say anything as he did so. She simply watched him.

“Hi,” he finally said.

“Hello.” Her voice sounded like the way a voice might within the distant echo of a memory, neither here nor there, the sound simply floating in the air for a moment before fading away. Her face was just as indescribable – she was beautiful, but her features seemed to ripple and fluctuate, like waves on the ocean, in a way that made it hard to commit to memory or focus on. If he looked away even for an instant to blink, he instantly forgot what she looked like.

“Where am I?” he eventually settled on asking her.

“Nowhere,” she answered, and…that had Even pause for a moment.

“Okay…” he looked around himself. The church, the candles, the crosses. An angel…

He felt like someone had poured a bucket of ice down his spine. “Am I… _dead_?”

The angel laughed, and the sound of her voice made Even think of the windchimes. “No.” She shook her head.  “Far from it. I’d say you have quite a while to go before you get there, in fact. Or, at least…” she looked at him with a searching expression. “you would have quite a while, if you allowed yourself to.”

The way she said it wasn’t accusing in the slightest, but Even could feel his defenses rise up regardless. “Easier said than done.”

“It most certainly is,” she agreed, moving to take the steps down from the altar. “But that does not mean it is not possible.”

He tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry. Was it possible to drink water in a hallucination? “What if I don’t want to, though?”

She nodded, like she’d expected him to say that. “That’s why I am here. To show you what you have been asking for.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And what have I been asking for?”

“It varies. Some ask to live no longer, some ask to have not lived through a certain period of their life. But you asked to have not lived at _all_ , Even. And that is something I do not think you realize the magnitude of.”

Even felt his breath catch. How had she known that? “Who are you?” His mind drifted to one of the stories his mother would read to him as a child; a boy named Henri and the skytsengel that always watched over him.

“A guardian angel?” She hummed knowingly, like she had read his mind. “I can see why you would think that. I suppose that for all the purposes and intents I am here for, you could most certainly think of me as one.”

Even stared at her. He wasn’t sure how she had just read his mind, but it set him on edge. Unless of course, this was all just some wild, ridiculous dream he’d conjured up, which was also a very likely possibility.

"This is..." Even looked around him once again, and then back at the angel, shaking his head. "I'm hallucinating, or dreaming. Or both."

"Then, I suppose you have nothing to lose if you came along with me to see what I can show you, right?"

"What?"

"Think of it as a film, Even," she said, stepping closer. "What I'm about to show you, is one made just for you. Except this time, you are not the director."

"You say that like I ever was," he said, more bitterness creeping into his tone than he’d expected.

"Oh, you are,” she assured him. “Much more than you would think. But you won't be in this one."

"Why not?" And then he blinked in surprise, because the colors around him were morphing, shifting – the gold into the neon blue into the darkness – and the angel’s face was disappearing, too, blending into the chaos.

He heard her answer as if an echo within his own head. "Because in this one, you don't exist."

 

 

When Even opened his eyes again, he was standing inside…the cafeteria of his old high school. Students were milling around, eating their lunches  and doing work, going about their day. No one paid any mind to them. Nor did anyone seem to notice that two people had just appeared out of thin air in the middle of their school cafeteria. He waved a hand in the air in front of a girl’s face at a nearby table, and she didn’t even blink.

“They cannot see you.” Even turned to see the angel standing a few feet behind him, watching him with almost an amused expression on her face.

“Bakka?” he asked instead, incredulous. “Your plan of convincing me is taking me back to, what? First year? Third year?”

The angel shook her head, eyes focused ahead of her. “I am not taking _you_ back,” she said. There was a slight smile on her face. She motioned in front of her with her chin. “Look.”

Even followed her line of sight to the entrance of the cafeteria, where a group of four girls were coming in.

“See anyone familiar?” he heard her ask, and Even took a closer look. The first three girls he could vaguely recognize from his time at Bakka – Maria, Leia, and Marte, had it been? A few years had passed, he couldn’t be sure anymore. But before he could confirm their names in his head, the fourth girl stepped into his line of sight. A beautiful girl, with kind eyes and short, blonde hair.

“Sonja,” he mumbled. But it wasn’t the Sonja he knew now, whose hair hung past her shoulders these days. This was the young Sonja, the one he’d known back in high school. But even as that Sonja, she looked a little…off. Back then her innate maturity had given off an open and warm feeling. It made her approachable. But here, she looked almost haughty, imposing.

And hadn’t Sonja hated Leia? Why would she be hanging out with her now?

“Do you remember how you and Sonja met, Even?” the angel asked from beside him.

“Yeah, I…” Distracted by the memory, Even felt a half smile form on his face despite himself. “She was new in school, really pretty. A lot of the guys wanted to date her. I lost a bet to Mikael and he dared me to go talk to her. I remember I was really surprised when she didn’t turn me down.”

The angel hummed in thought. “Some day, you should ask her how she thinks you two met. I think your renditions of the story are quite different.”

“They are? How do you know? Why?”

“What do you think you were to Sonja, Even?” the angel asked him instead, ignoring his questions. Over at the table, Leia leaned over and whispered something in Sonja’s ear, her eyes focused on another first-year girl who had stood up to throw away her trash.

“Her boyfriend?” Even asked, confused. “Or—her ex, now, I guess.” At the table, Sonja sniggered in response to Leia, throwing a vindictive look at the girl by the trashcan. Even felt something twist in his stomach. Through all the years they had been together, even through all their fights, he had _never_ seen a look as cruel as that on her face. It didn’t suit her at all – if there was one thing Sonja always was, even if to the point of excess, it was caring.

“You were more than that,” the angel said. “You were her first true friend at school. And after some time, one of her first real best friends.”

“I don’t understand,” Even said, looking between the angel and the table in front of him. “What does _that_ have to do with this?”

As he spoke, the first-year who had gotten up to throw away her trash began heading back to her seat, passing by the table Sonja sat at as she did so. But as she did – Even wouldn’t have believed her capable of such a thing had he not seen it with his own eyes – Sonja shifted ever so slightly, sticking her foot out and causing the other girl to fall onto her knees. Almost immediately, Marte, Leia, and Maria began to laugh at the girl. Sonja on the other hand, simply shrugged out an innocent “Sorry” at the first-year on the ground, who fumbled to her feet immediately, cheeks burning in fury and humiliation. She turned on her heel and stalked back to her seat, as Sonja joined in on the laugher with the other girls.

“That’s not Sonja.” Even shook his head. “Sonja wouldn’t do that. Sonja wouldn’t even—she doesn’t even _like_ Leia!”

“The friends we make change us in monumental ways,” the angel said, turning to face him. “You were her first friend, Even. And that changed the person she became by tenfold. With you she learned how to care and how to love, what it meant to be a true friend. You were genuine, and so was the companionship you offered, and thus, so was she.” The angel turned back to look at Sonja, a frown on her face. “But without you, she could not be that person. Without you, the first people that happened befriend her were those girls, and therefore she became someone else – someone like them.”

He gaped at the angel. “All because I wasn’t there?”

She gave him a weary smile. “I know you think you are a burden, Even. But trust me when I say that you have changed far more lives for the better than you have for the worse.”

Even felt a little shaky on his knees. “I don’t…I can’t believe that, I’m sorry.”

“I know.” There was that sad smile again. “That’s why I still have a few more things to show you.”

“There’s more?” Before the words had hardly left his mouth, however, the colors began swirling and rippling again, the grays and reds and browns of his school and a glint of the blonde of Sonja’s hair, and then, darkness.

 

This time when he blinked his surroundings into clarity, it took him a bit to discern where he was. He was standing inside what looked to be the front entrance of a house. It was quiet and dimly lit, the only light being from the little window above the front door. It was the smell, however – the familiar musky mix of perfume and his childhood – that clued him into where he was.

“My grandmother’s house?” he asked aloud. He almost hadn’t recognized the place. His grandmother had had another house she lived in more often up north, so usually Even and his mother only came down here for the holidays to be closer to family. And before that, this had been his childhood home till he was about ten or eleven.

The last time he’d been here it had been warm, well-lit. The smell of her gingerbread cookies always drifting in from the kitchen, the airy sound of his mother singing under her breath as she cooked. But it didn’t look like that now. Although it looked like someone had been living here, the air was stale.

There was a movement by his side and he realized that the angel had appeared beside him. He was about to ask why they had come here when the door opened, and his mother stepped inside.

But this woman acted nothing like his mother. Barely even looked like her. Her laugh lines weren’t as prominent; the smile lines around her eyes were replaced with lines of exhaustion. She was paler, thinner, donning a dull grey coat that he knew his real mother would have despised.

Even watched as she quietly toed off her shoes and hung her coat up. He followed her and watched as she made her way to the kitchen, pulled out a cutting board and knife, and began to chop some shriveled up vegetables she had produced from the fridge. And though she still cut her vegetables in the same expert, rapid way that his mother always did, there was a defeated slump to her shoulders. There was no humming. She didn’t even turn on the radio, which was something his mother had _always_ done while she cooked. This version of his mother instead chose to work in the lifeless silence.

“What’s happened to her?” he asked, turning around to find the angel watching him.

“You don’t exist,” she said simply.

“So…what, she lives alone?” He scoffed, feeling that _this_ , at least, was a little extreme. “Just because I don’t exist?” He swallowed hard, shaking his head. “No, no…she’s supposed to be…free without me. This isn’t—she _wouldn’t_ —live like this.”

The angel sighed, moving forward a little. “When your mother realized she was pregnant with you, she had been broken up with her boyfriend – your father – for nearly two months. They had been very close, and they had the same friend circle. So when she left your father, she lost many of her close friends as well. She was very lonely for a long time, and it changed her. Had she not had you, she would have remained that way.”

“But… _how_?” Even watched as his mother silently pulled out some pots and pans. As she stood, she winced, rubbed her kneecaps, and returned to work.

“Some people require a push to change, Even. And if they never get the push they need, they often remain the way they are for a very long time.”

“She didn’t…she didn’t remarry, or anything?” There were times when he felt like he was holding his mother back from living her life. She had gone on a few dates here and there, but she never followed up with any of them. He had ruined the most recent one himself in the midst of a manic episode. And though his mother had waved it off, claiming she wasn’t all that crazy about him anyway, Even had the suspicion that his lying in bed for two weeks afterwards had something to do with the fact that she never tried a follow-up date with the guy.

“No,” the angel said. “She didn’t.” When she saw Even’s expression, she sighed, as if she already knew what was going through his mind. “Marriage and finding a partner in life are not always what brings true happiness for everyone, you know. I know you believe that you drive your mother mad with worry, but Even, you should know that you brought _life_ into her world. Building a life with you was her happiness. You gave her a reason to get up and work for her dream job, _you_ brought laughter and joy and light into her life. It was you that made her less lonely.”

Even didn’t know what to say to that. A swell of emotion rose in his chest and suddenly, he missed his mother very much. He wanted to go up to this empty version of his mother and shake her, remind her of who she really was, remind her to live life with a smile on her face because that had been the way his real mother had always lived life. The way she had always told him to live life.

But in this world, the woman who was his mother didn’t even know he was there. Or existed at all, for that matter.

“It doesn’t feel like it, a lot of the time.” he said quietly. “That I bring her happiness.”

“You do,” the angel replied, her voice gentle. “She loves you more than anything in the world. And you have made all the difference in her life for the better simply by being her son, remember that.”

Even took a shaky breath in. Out. In, out. “Is there more for me to see?”

The last thing he heard before the colors began whirling once again was her tinkling windchime laugh, saying, “Of course. Did you think this was all that would have changed had you not existed?”

 

When took in his surroundings this time, he flinched a little, a little startled by the sudden and overwhelming sensory influx. There were flashing lights, a thumping bass, and hordes of people milling around – they were in a nightclub. For a few minutes he took in the scene, not bothering to check if the angel had appeared behind him this time. He knew she would be there. His eyes roved over the faces of the people he saw, and he wondered whose story he was watching this time. He wasn’t sure where he was, but after spotting the third or fourth consecutive pair of guys with locked lips, he had a vague idea.

He started to say, “Who am I supposed to be looking for?” but trailed off before he could finish the sentence, because his eyes fell upon a familiar figure with blonde hair tucked into a snapback, slumped over one of the stools at the bar.

Isak.

He felt the familiar tingle in his stomach as he did so, gravitating closer to him almost unconsciously.

He had known Isak for about a year now, introduced through some mutual friends. But it had only been recently that he and Isak had begun striking up a conversation more and more at parties and events when they’d run into one another. And Even would have been lying if he said that the very thought of Isak didn’t make his heart skip a beat – because it _did_ , and it had ever since he’d laid eyes upon him. And while Even knew that all he had to do was to simply take a leap forward, make the first move – he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Fifteen-year old Even would have had no problem strolling up to Sonja and asking her to sit with him at lunch. Fifteen year-old Even was fearless enough to lean in and kiss her on their first date.

But he didn’t have that fearlessness in him any longer. It had been replaced with doubts and heavy thoughts, with _what if I’m not good enough_ and _he wouldn’t like the real me_.

The only issue with the whole situation was that Isak’s presence only magnified the battle in his head. For one, it didn’t help that the boy was incredibly handsome. But it wasn’t just that. It was the way Isak held Even’s gaze when he smiled at him, the way he winked at him when they shared a secret joke among friends. The way Even seemed to lose track of time and his surroundings whenever they spoke. The way Isak smiled at Even sometimes, in that shy and private way, from across the room when their eyes happened to meet. The way that smile did things to Even’s heart in a way they hadn’t in a long while.

But Isak wasn’t smiling now.

In fact, he looked utterly miserable. His cheeks looked gaunt, and there were lines of exhaustion under his eyes. Even could see a tray of empty shot glasses beside him. Isak was blinking slowly, gazing intently at the drink he was currently nursing.

 _Someone needs to get him home_ , Even thought, looking around the dance floor for someone Isak could have potentially come here with. He hadn’t come here all alone, had he?

Isak swiveled his unsteady gaze to the dance floor with a frown, zeroing in on a couple that was making out close by the bar. He stared at them for so long that Even wasn’t sure that Isak was really even seeing them. At this point, Even was close enough to hear the phone buzz that jolted Isak out of his reverie. He could see the way Isak blinked down at his phone screen, could see the way his jaw began ticking after a moment. And then in a swift move that was far faster than Even thought Isak was capable of in the inebriated state he was in, Isak downed the rest of his drink in one go, stumbled down from the bar stool, took a step forward, and immediately crumpled to the ground.

Even surged forward with his arms outstretched out of instinct, but froze when one of his arms went through a bar stool as if made up of nothing.

“You cannot help him in this world,” came a voice behind him.

He turned on her. “What’s wrong with him? What happened?”

The angel seemed to have no answer for this question. But now, Even was starting to get angry. Was this all some _game_ to her? To show all the people he cared about in misery, and then blame it all on him? Was this angel trying to _guilt_ him into staying alive? Hadn’t he already felt guilty enough?

“Why are you showing me this?”

“You should know how important your life is to those around you.”

“But how?” Even snapped, and he couldn’t help the anger from seeping into his voice. “How could _his_ life be like this just because I wasn’t there? How could _I_ do that to him? We’re – we’re not even that close!”

“What may seem like the smallest of choices,” the angel said, her voice sad, “can have a greater impact than you could ever imagine.”

“So, you’re telling me that I ruined his life?”

“No. I’m telling you that your life has much more worth than you believe.”

Even turned away; from the angel, from Isak’s crumpled heap on the floor that he couldn’t do _anything_ to help. He couldn’t bear it.

“I don’t want to be here anymore,” he said, staring intently at one of the strobe lights above him, allowing their brightness to create black spots in his vision. “Take me somewhere else. Anywhere else.”

When he closed his eyes to the spinning colors, he could still see the afterimage of the club lights flashing black spots in his retinas, burning the image of Isak’s form on the ground into his mind.

 

This time, Even knew who he was looking for immediately.

“Elias,” he blurted. It hadn’t been very hard to spot him. He was the only person in the room. A dorm room, Even realized after a moment. But this in itself was strange, because Even knew that Elias had chosen to commute from his parents’ house until his senior year, at which point he’d rented out a small flat with Yousef. At no point had Elias ever lived at university housing.

The room was otherwise dark except for the bright lamp shining over the desk at which Elias was hunched over. Even walked closer, and realized that the desk was covered in paper and pens. Elias himself was slowly writing into a notebook on top of the mess, occasionally glancing up to look up at the textbook he had propped up at the head of the desk. It was the thickest textbook Even had ever seen. Even wondered if students were expected to carry that around with themselves on campus.

The world outside the window in front of the desk was dark. Even looked around the room for a clock, finally finding it on Elias’ plugged in phone at the edge of the desk.

 _03:44_ , the time read.

Even looked back over at the textbook with more attention now, wondering what the hell Elias was staying up into the early hours of the morning for. He noted a labeled diagram that looked a lot like bones. The font of the textbook was tiny, scattered with words that rang a blank in his head. Words like _radioulnar_ and _olecranon fossa_ and _ulnar collateral ligament_.

“He’s studying on the pre-medicine track,” the angel informed him, appearing at Elias’ other side.

“Elias,” Even repeated incredulously. “ _Elias_ is studying to be a doctor?” The angel nodded. “But—but Elias _hates_ science!”

“He does,” the angel agreed, and for the first time, Even noted how empty Elias looked, noted the dark bags under his eyes. “He comes from a family, however, where science is celebrated, especially as a career choice. An older brother, studying to be a pediatrician. A surgeon for a father, a sister studying to be a surgeon as well, a sister-in-law as a nurse. You can imagine the expectation.”

The tip of mechanical lead pencil that Elias was using to write suddenly snapped from the pressure he was using to write with. There was a moment of silence where Elias blinked at the small, broken piece of lead on his paper. And then he was on his feet in a flash, flinging the pencil at the wall beside the window with a shout of frustration. Even stumbled backwards in surprise, even though Elias would have just gone through him had he gotten close enough. The pencil hit the wall with a small _snap_ – Even was pretty sure that the force of it had at least cracked the object, if it hadn’t broken it – and then Elias slumped back down into his seat with an anguished sound, raking his fingers over his head.

It was at the second gasping sound that Even realized that Elias was crying.

“Elias hates science,” Even repeated mechanically, as if that would make the reality of what he was watching less real. “Elias…Elias would never study pre-med, Elias wouldn’t _do_ that. He—” Even turned around, unable to watch the shaking figure any longer. “I know Elias, I’ve known him since first year in secondary, I _know_ him. Elias does freelance editing work on the side of his school work. He’s majoring in _film production_.” Even shook his head. “Elias lives in an apartment with Yousef. Elias wouldn’t do this.”

“The pressure to perform is not an easy expectation to meet,” he heard the angel say from behind him. “It is difficult enough when it is set by others, but most difficult to escape when it is set by yourself. Even, _you_ inspired him to pursue his hopes and dreams, even though he felt they weren’t up to his family’s level of expectation.

“What?”

“It was your decision to pursue your passion that inspired him to pursue his. Without you, he would have never realized he could do so, and thus he tried to pursue the hopes and dreams of someone he thought he should be.”

“No. No, this isn’t—where’s Mikael?” Even demanded suddenly, rounding on the angel. “Where’s Mikael? Mikael would have never let Elias go through with this, not ever. Mikael pursued his dreams, too, where’s he?” If anything, he thought it a little strange that the angel had left out showing him his own best friend out of all the others.

The angel’s eyes were sad. “Mikael…wasn’t there.”

“Why not? Where was he?”

“Do you remember that time the both of you went ice sledding on the hill by the frozen lake when you were children?”

Even hesitated, needing a moment to dig up the memory from so long ago. A blur, now. “Mikael fell in,” he recalled slowly.

She nodded. “And you jumped in after him to save him.”

Even barely recalled that part, but he did remember the week he had spent at the hospital with pneumonia afterwards.

“Yeah,” he said. “And?”

“You and Mikael were agreeable from the start because you both were very similar. Spontaneous, energetic. And sometimes, those traits got the two of you into trouble.”

Even shrugged. “Usually one of us would find a way out of it.”

 “Usually, yes. But without the other, the two of you would not be as lucky. Even…” For the first time, the angel looked uncomfortable. “Had you not been there that day, Mikael would not have survived falling through the ice.”

Even's mouth fell open. " _What_?"

"I’m sorry."

"That's..." Even blinked, vaguely noting in the back of his mind that they were no longer standing in the dorm room. "That's…bullshit."

"If you say so."

“This isn’t _real_ ,” Even mumbled, dragging his hands through his hair, his face. “This is just…I’m just seeing things, this is just a nightmare.”

“This is what you wished for, though,” the angel reminded him softly.

“Not like _this_ , though.” Even felt bile in his throat. Mikael not having survived…out of everything he had seen, that was one thought he couldn’t bear at all. He stared at the figure before him, wondering if she was even an angel at all.

"I thought you said you were my guardian angel?" Even asked. "Aren't you supposed to _not_ give me...nightmares, and things?"

She laughed, and Even heard the echoes of wind chimes again. He wondered how someone so cruel could be so beautiful “I never said I was,” she said. “Only that if calling me that helped you address me, you could see me as one. My job is not in what is, it is in what may be.”

“So if I hadn’t existed,” Even said, “Then Mikael wouldn’t have survived.”

“It is likely, yes.”

The bile was back in his throat, and for a moment, Even felt like he might actually throw up.

He closed his eyes, feeling the emotion building in his chest, his throat, from all the things he had seen. “Take me back,” he said, fighting to keep his voice level. “I don’t want to see any more.”

The angel didn’t respond. He opened his eyes and took another step towards her, feeling the need to almost shake her so that she could understand. “ _Please_. I can’t…I can’t, take me back. Make it stop.”

She watched him carefully, and then she tilted her head. “Allow me to show you one more.”

Even shook his head. “No, please. I can’t take any more.”

“Just one more,” she said, her voice gentle now. “And then we can stop. Trust me. I don’t think you would object to this one.”

“I bet you thought that about the others, too.”

She laughed her windchime laugh again, and it faded as the environment around them shimmered and blended once again. This time, Even shut his eyes even before the colors started swirling.

 

When Even opened his eyes, he looked around him in confusion.

They were standing in his apartment.

“You did take me back,” he said.

“Not exactly.” There was something in her expression now – a smile, almost. Even didn’t know why, and it made him uneasy.

He looked around him, trying to figure out what was going on. Maybe this was who would have lived in his apartment had he not existed? But no, that was _his_ jacket hanging by the doorway, _his_ scarf. His shoes, and—

He frowned. Those shoes that were beside his, those weren’t his. Neither was the black jacket hanging beside his jacket, nor the red cap on top of it.

He turned back to the angel. “Where am I?”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “I thought that you, of all people would know the answer to that, even more than I.”

He looked around himself again, this time noting a tiny plant in the corner he didn’t remember owning. A bottle of Fanta lay on the floor, which didn’t make sense, because Even didn’t like Fanta. “What is this?”

The angel smiled and gestured to his bedroom. “I think you should see for yourself.”

Even took a step forward, and then hesitated. “How bad is this one?”

“I cannot say. But somehow, I don’t think _bad_ would be the word of choice here.”

Taking a deep breath and holding it, Even walked from the foyer to the doorway of his bedroom. He had meant to go straight to his bedroom, but upon glancing to the left to see the kitchen on the way in, he came to an immediate halt. The breath he’d been holding came out of him in a snap.

“Is that…a fish tank? In my _kitchen_?” He turned around to look at the angel in disbelief. She simply shrugged in reply. Even turned back to check, and sure as hell, it was still there: a medium sized fish tank situated behind his kitchen table.

Now more confused than ever, he moved into his bedroom.

Before he even saw the lump lying beneath the pile of sheets on the bed, Even knew what was going on the minute he walked in. The shades were drawn, the room was dimly lit. The air was heavy and subdued, and filled with an empty silence. On the bed in the corner Even knew it was himself lying there, covers drawn up till his ears, and somehow he already knew that the Even of this world had been lying there for quite a while.

Just as he himself had, for the last three days.

Even didn’t understand why the angel was making him see himself like this. He felt that rush of frustration again, like she didn’t understand him – he didn’t understand what she was trying to prove by showing him what she had. Did she think that by showing him what he was like when he was depressed she could bring him out of it? Didn’t she know that he had no idea how to stop his brain from shutting down like it did, that had he known a way to stop it, that he would have, ages ago?

“I thought you said this wouldn’t be bad,” he said, surprising himself with the lack of anger in his voice. Instead, his voice was simply void of emotion.

“Just watch,” she said quietly, and he wanted to laugh – _trust me, I’ve been here before_ , he wanted to tell her. _If you’re waiting for something to happen, you’re in for quite the wait._

But before he could speak, he was distracted by the sound of the front door opening.

“Yeah, yeah,” Even heard a voice saying from the foyer. He could hear the characteristic shuffling sounds that came off with removing a jacket and shoes. “Yeah, definitely. If he’s feeling up to it then we’ll come for sure.”

Even felt his brows furrow as he turned to look at the angel in confusion. That voice…it sounded familiar. A lot like…

The voice laughed. “She wants me to make them? _Me_? Fucking hell, everyone would go home with food poisoning. Some Christmas Eve party that’d be.”

And then before Even could walk into the hallway to see who had just come into his apartment, Isak Valtersen strolled into his bedroom.

Even felt the angel’s face turn to him, but Even couldn’t turn away from the scene unfolding before him. Isak, placing a bag of takeout food onto _Even’s_ bedroom table. Isak, smiling lightly as he spoke quietly into the phone, leaning casually onto the chair in _Even’s_ bedroom. Isak, reaching out to hang the keys on a hook Even couldn’t remember even buying for his apartment. He seemed perfectly at ease in the place.

It didn’t make sense.

The figure on the bed shuffled a little, Isak noticed immediately. “Alright, I’ve gotta go,” he said, lowering his voice into the phone. “And tell Eva about the gingerbread cookies. We’ll try, but I don’t know if he’s…yeah, yeah,” A soft laugh, followed by an even softer smile that twisted something in Even’s heart. “Yeah, of course, I’ll tell him. Bye.”

Leaving the phone on the table, Isak walked over to the bed and bent over it. He reached out a hand and ran it through the hair of the Even lying on the bed.

“Hi,” Isak said, the soft smile still in place as the figure on the bed turned to face him. “I brought food, are you hungry?”

If the room hadn’t been so quiet, Even wouldn’t have been able to hear what he’d said, Isak was speaking so quietly.

Even couldn’t see what the Even on the bed was doing, the blankets were blocking his face – but whatever it was that he did, it made Isak laugh.

“Okay, okay,” Isak said. “Later.”

And then – Even couldn’t breathe – Isak leaned in and placed a single, gentle kiss on the temple of the Even lying in the bed.

Even stood stock still by the doorway, too stunned to move.

He stayed like that, frozen, for a long time. He didn’t speak, nor did the angel prompt him to, for which he was grateful for. He could only wordlessly watch as Isak shuffled calmly around the room, putting things away and pulling on sweatpants – from the same drawer where Even kept _his_ sweatpants, no less. He watched as Isak took a bite of a few fries from the takeout bag, sipped on some soda as he plugged his phone in to charge. Eventually Isak pulled a laptop and notebook and pen out of a backpack, and headed back over to the bed.

He placed the items on the bedside table, and then crawled into the bed beside Even, situating himself with his back against the headboard. And then Even watched, chest expanding with an emotion he couldn’t describe, as the Even on the bed turned around, and Isak raised his arm readily to allow him under. Even curled around Isak’s lower body, pillowing his head on Isak’s lap and twining an arm around his legs.

There was a fluidity to the way they moved together, in harmony and without hesitation, almost as if practiced. Isak reached for the notebook and balanced it on his free leg, pulled something up on the laptop screen on the bedside table, and then began to write into the notebook. He glanced to the right every now and then to look at or type something on the laptop before returning to scribbling into the notebook – all while his other hand weaved in and out of Even’s hair, brushing over Even’s neck, sweeping up and down his back, soothing him until the Even on the bed fell back asleep.

Even’s chest and throat were tight. If he could cry in this world, he would have been by now.

After a long while, the angel finally spoke. “What do you think?”

Even swallowed. “I feel like I’m dreaming.”

“Well,” A soft laugh. “In every sense of the word, you are.”

“I know. That’s the hardest part.” He shook his head. “I wish it wasn’t. I wish it were real.”

She hummed, thoughtful. “Why can’t it be?”

“Because…” Even was at a loss. “Because, I don’t deserve it. Because it’s too good to be true.”

The angel made a sound as if pained. “Do you truly believe that?”

Even closed his eyes.

A breath in. Hold. A breath out.

“Sometimes.”

“Well, _he_ certainly doesn’t seem to think so.”

Even opened his eyes to find the angel’s gaze trained on Isak. And – Even couldn’t exactly argue with that.

It made no sense, but Isak looked perfectly at ease to sit there, doing his own work, as Even laid listlessly by his side. He didn’t appear at all bothered by the fact that the lights were so dim, seemingly content with getting by with just the light of the laptop. He didn’t appear to be bothered by Even clinging to him as if a lifeline. He didn’t even seem bothered by the fact that Even was monopolizing most of the space on his lap while he tried to work. Rather, he barely even seemed to mind, absent-mindedly drawing patterns into Even’s hair and shoulders with the fingers of one hand as his balanced his notebook with the other on his free knee to write.

Even swallowed. It was everything he could have ever asked for. Love, warmth, security, but…

He swallowed, feeling a bitter taste in his mouth. “What is this supposed to be?” he asked. “Are you showing me the things I’ll never have, now?”

“What makes you think you’ll never have it?” the angel asked, sounding surprised. “Why would I ever show you this if not?”

He felt his heart skip a beat at her words and he turned to look at her, eyes wide.

She was lying. This couldn’t be true, there was no way…but the treacherous hope was already blooming in his chest.

“Is this…” His voice was barely a whisper, he was so scared to ask. It was too good to be true. “Is this my future?”

She shook her head no, and Even felt his heart sink to the floor, disappointment crashing over him like a tidal wave.

“I told you, I cannot show you the events of the future,” she said. “No more than I can show you the past. But…”

“But?”

“My power does not lie in what _is_ , it lies in what if. I can only show you what may have been, or…” she gestured before them. “What _could_ be.”

“What could be,” Even echoed, turning back to look at the two on the bed. “So…this will happen? Or, no, it—” He glanced back at her. “It’s…it’s a possibility?” And then suddenly, it all made sense.

“You showed me him, earlier,” he said, and everything clicking into place. “And at the time I didn’t understand why you were. Is it because…?” He couldn’t bring himself to say the words. He could still hardly believe it himself.

She smiled. “It could be, if you wanted. In the end, it all comes down to what you choose to do with the choices you are given.”

“What do I have to do?”

Her answer was simple. “ _Live_ , Even.” She took a step towards him, her eyes kind. “Live your life, for you. Every day that you keep deciding to live, to breathe, every minute you choose to keep going, is one minute closer to your happiness. I cannot promise you what may come in the future, and I cannot promise you that you will not ever fail again, no more than I can tell you what to do with your life. But I _can_ promise you that if you choose to live your life to the fullest, you will find your happiness.” She smiled, and looked over at the Isak and Even on the bed. “And perhaps, you could even be that happiness for another.”

Once again, Even felt the tightness in his chest and throat from the build of emotion inside him. He followed her gaze back to the bed. As if on cue, the Even on the bed shifted a little in his sleep. Almost as if a reflex in response, Isak leaned over and pressed his nose to Even’s temple, brushing over it once, twice, thrice, holding himself there until Even’s sleeping form stilled, and then returned back to work.

Even was a quiet a long time before he spoke again.

“Are they in love?” He knew the question was a childish one. But he couldn’t help it.

Even could hear the smile in the angel’s answer. “Very much so.”

“And I can have that?” His voice was small, he even sounded like a child now.

“Why don’t you find out?” She held her hand out to him, which looked like it was glowing from the inside.

Even took one last look at the two of them on the bed and closed his eyes, willing to sear the image into his memory. He might never have this, but at least he would never forget it.

Eyes still closed, he held out his hand and waited for the angel to take it. When she did, it didn’t feel like touching skin – rather, like his hand was held by just warmth, in the sense of the word itself.

Unable to help himself and desperate to see it just once more, he opened his eyes one last time to look at the picture the two of them made on the bed in the corner of the room. The setting around him however, was not the same. Spots of black in his vision blended in with shimmers of gold and white and gray as everything faded into a single blur – and before he realized what was happening, the scene before him was shifting, transforming—

—and he saw himself, laughing as he held Isak’s hand to keep him from falling on the ice as they skated—

—he saw the two of them smiling for a picture, both in a suit and Even raising a silver plaque into the air—

—he saw Isak, leaning in to blow a puff of smoke in Even’s face before sealing in a kiss—

—he saw the two of them asleep on the bed, a little boy with dark hair curled up between them—

—he saw them, their gazes unwavering from one another, as they slipped rings onto each other’s fingers—

“Merry Christmas, Even,” he heard the angel’s ringing voice reverberate around him. “Remember, your life is now. You are your own director, _you_ get to decide what you do with your life.”

—he saw two boys leaning into one another under the mistletoe—

 

 

Even jolted awake to the shrill beeping of his alarm.

He blinked into the space of his dark room for a second while his alarm continued to blare incessantly somewhere near his ear, until he had the sense to dig up his phone and shut it off. He blinked down blearily at the screen. It had been his routine alarm for work that had gone off, and once Even had swiped it away his eyes fell upon the date and time.

**08:39  
søndag 24. desember**

He drew a hand up to his face, and then ran it over the blankets, the wall beside his bed, his night table – wanting to make sure he was actually there. When his hand didn’t pass through the objects a shaky sigh of relief fell out of his mouth.

He existed.

His mind was a swirling blur of memories, already fading now. He threw a perfunctory glance around the room, looking for the…angel, had it been? The thought seemed ridiculous now. He couldn’t even recall her face. He could barely focus on the details from his dream (had it even been a dream?), they were slipping from his mind so fast. But even then, he did not forget the emotion the dream had woken him up with.

He fumbled around under the sheets until he dug up his phone. His movements were still slow, his limbs still heavy and his mind still a little clouded, but he could see what he needed to do clearly enough. He pulled up the contact, and dialed.

She picked up before the first ring even finished.

“Even?”

“Mom?”

He heard an unintelligible sigh of relief. And then the dam broke: the questions came flooding out, one after the other with a speed Even couldn’t quite keep up with his sluggish brain. “Where are you? Are you okay? Are you home? I’ve been trying to call you for _days_ , why haven’t you been answering?!” A small pause to take a breath, and then, “Are you home? Maybe I’ll come now.” The sound of shuffling on the other end. “Do you have food? Should I bring—?”

“Mom, mom, listen, _listen_ : I’m okay.”

“ _Then why haven’t you been_ —"

“I know, I know. I’ve…I’ve been a little down.”

There was a pause as she took this information in, and he knew she understood. “I know it’s not what you wanted,” she said softly, “but there are other schools that offer the same program. Even the best film directors started out at places you would have never thought. What’s important is that you start at all. From there all you can go is up.”

Even swallowed. In the hazy memory of his mind, he saw an empty woman cutting up vegetables in silence.

“Mom?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

There was another pause, and then his mother’s voice again. “I love you too,” she sounded a little concerned. “Are you okay?” she asked again.

“No, I’m okay. _Really_ ,” he added in earnest when he could hear the doubt in her answering silence. “I just…thank you. For everything. And I’m sorry if I worried you. I didn’t take the rejection letter well, so. But I’m feeling a little better now.”

“Do you need anything, need me to come by?”

“I think I’m okay,” he said. “I might…go to this party with some friends tonight, to get my mind off things. But I’ll come over tomorrow to see you. I promise.”

“Okay,” she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “I’m going to visit Martin and his family with mom tonight, and they’re coming over for dinner tomorrow night, but otherwise it’ll just be me at home all day tomorrow. If you come early I can give you Christmas breakfast, too.”

He smiled. “I can do that.”

“See you soon. And Even, take it easy tonight at the party, okay?”

“I will.” He paused, and then, “Merry Christmas, mom.”

A soft laugh, one full of life and smiles. _His_ mom’s laugh. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

 

Next he pulled up his messages, pulling up his conversation with Elias first.

> _Is it too late to rvsp for the party?_

He began to crawl out of bed as soon as he’d sent it, and Elias’ reply came before his feet had even touched the floor.

**ELIAS**

> Never!! You’re always welcome here man  
>  Feeling ok?

Even paused, and then typed out a reply.

 

> _A little bit, yeah :)_

**ELIAS**

> Good to hear bro. We’ll cheer you up tonight, 100% guarantee

Even felt a small smile grow on his face. He didn’t doubt it. But that reminded him of something else:  Mikael. He quickly swiped over to their conversation and wrote out a quick message:

> _Hi, sorry. I’d been down the last few days, but I’m doing a bit better now. Called mom and all. Are you coming to Sana’s party tonight?_

Like Elias and his mother, Mikael’s response was lightning quick.

**MIKAEL**

> Proud of you, best bud. No worries  
>  And yeah! Coming??

 

> _Yeah, talk to you tonight?_

 

**MIKAEL**

> Definitely. See you tonight

 

Even padded over to the window, drawing the blinds open for the first time in days. It took his eyes a few moments to adjust to the blinding whiteness – he hadn’t realized it had snowed. Usually the street outside his window was always busy, always filled with pedestrians and cars, since he lived so close to the heart of the city. But right now there was a still peacefulness to the world that hadn’t seen in ages. The only people outside now was a little girl running through the snow, followed by her mother trailing behind her. The girl kept slipping and falling on the ice, but she hardly even seemed to notice, clearly giggling the entire time and having the time of her life, and getting right back up immediately.

Even could see his breath fog on the glass as he breathed. The draft of air that hit him because he was standing so close to the window was chilly, but it was crisp and clean in a way that he could feel his mind unclouding with every inhale. For the first time he was fully aware of the Christmas lights hanging off the windows of the apartment building across from him. He could see every single flurry of snow fall.

For the first time that December, it felt like Christmas. And for the first time in weeks, he felt alive.

He pulled up his conversation with Elias on his phone again.

> _Also, you still want me to bring my gingerbread cookies?_
> 
>  

**ELIAS**

> Seriously??? It’s no trouble?

Even glanced at the time. He didn’t have half of the ingredients to make it, but as long as he made it to the supermarket before noon, he was sure he could still manage.

> _No trouble. ;) I’ve got you_

Elias’ response came through as Even was tugging on his jacket – filled with emojis and exclamation marks and praises. And while what Even really needed was a shower having laid in bed for days, he made a mental note to do that after his grocery shopping. Because at the moment he felt the overwhelming urge to step outside and feel the icy coldness on his cheeks and in his bones, revel in the quiet stillness of the world. For so long the cold and quietness had been stemming from his own brain and blocking out the rest of the world. It was nice to have it be reversed, to have the chill of the air clear up his mind instead.

He felt a smile tug at his lips when he breathed in a lungful of the freezing air. It was Christmas Eve, and he was going to make gingerbread cookies for his friends tonight.

He would be alright.

 

 

By the time he arrived at the Christmas party, gingerbread cookies baked and ready to eat in hand, the party was already in full swing. Thankfully, this made it easier to slip inside without causing too much of an entrance. Sana was the first to greet him with a hug, glowing and smiling from cheek to cheek in a deep red hijab.

“How have you been?” she asked when she pulled away. There was a look in her eyes that conveyed a deeper meaning to the question, and Even knew that Elias had told her some of what was going on.

“Better,” he said, giving her a small smile that she returned. He held out the box of cookies in his hands. “Better enough to make these, at least.”

“ _Now_ it’s a Christmas party,” she said, grinning as she took the box from him into her own arms. “I’m going to put these on the table. People have been asking if you were going to bring these. I guarantee you they won’t last one hour!” she called, turning to walk away towards where the food was laid out. Even watched her as she made her way through the crowd, laughing. It was when he had lost her in his sight that his eyes fell upon someone else, bent over and fiddling with the laptop that was playing the Christmas music.

“Hi,” he said when he got close, and Mikael’s face immediately broke out into a grin when he looked up.

“You came!”

“I did,” Even laughed. The minute Mikael had straightened up Even reached out, pulling him into a bone crushing hug. He knew that it had all just been some sort of dream, but it didn’t help that the events had felt a little too real for it to be just some old nightmare. Mikael made a sound of surprise, but he didn’t hesitate to hug Even back just as fiercely.

“Okay?” He asked when he had pulled away.

Even nodded. “I’m okay.”

Mikael searched his face for a moment before the easy grin was back. “Good,” he said. “Because it’s Christmas, bro. And you deserve to be happy. And also…” there was a mischievous glint in his eye. “I may have pulled some strings.”

Even was immediately wary. “What do you mean?”

“Relax, it’s nothing bad! It’s great, actually – remember how I said there was a new group of people running the film festival this year? Well, the _old_ group of people who ran it still gets to see all the submissions, did you know that? And guess what? Their leader just asked me to ask _you_ to contact them.”

“Me,” Even repeated, dumbstruck.

“ _You_!” Mikael grabbed his arms and shook him a little. “He _liked_ your film, man! When I asked him if he’d seen yours, he remembered it out of all the other submissions, and there were like, a hundred of those. Yours! Says that he’s interested in getting you in contact with some other people you might be interested in working under and stuff.”

Even was rendered speechless. There was an overwhelming surge of relief in his chest. The relief that maybe, just _maybe_ : the stuff he made wasn’t all that terrible after all.

“I don’t believe you,” he told Mikael, but by this point he was grinning, too.

“Well, you better believe it soon,” Mikael said, patting his arm. “because _you_ have a phone call to make in a few days.”

Even opened his mouth to respond, but at that moment he felt multiple bodies tackle him from behind.

“Even!”

“Bro, you’re here!”

“How are you dude, it’s been a while!”

“Even, my man!”

Even blinked, unable to let the grin on his face go as Elias, Yousef, Adam, and Mutta crowded around beside Mikael.

“We didn’t see you come in!” Mutta said, patting his chest.

Yousef gave him a questioning look. “Everything chill?”

Even locked eyes with Mikael, who grinned back at him. “Yeah,” he answered, smiling. “Everything’s chill.”

Elias clapped him on the back. “Okay, but in all seriousness: did you bring your cookies?”

He laughed, nodding. “I did.”

Adam made a sound of indignation. “You brought your cookies?!” When Even nodded in confusion, Adam pointed an accusing finger at Elias. “You said he wasn’t making them this year! You told us not to expect them!”

Elias held up his hands in defense. “That’s what _he_ told me,” he said, shoving Mikael.

Mikael scoffed, shoving Elias back. “I told _you_ not to peer pressure your friends into cooking for you is what I said.”

“It’s not _peer pressuring_ , Even is our bro. And no one makes gingerbread cookies like he does so—?"

“Wait, wait…” Mutta stared at Even’s hands, which were empty. “So, where are they?”

“Uh, Sana had them last,” Even said, looking around the room. “I think she said she would put them on the table?”

“You gave them to _Sana_?” Elias said, sounding wounded. “I know Sana, it’s all a trick. She’s probably eaten them all herself by now.”

“She wouldn’t do that,” Yousef admonished.

Elias raised his eyebrows. “Wouldn’t she?”

“To _me_ , anyway,” Yousef added after a moment of thought.

“Okay: I’m leaving,” Mutta said abruptly, turning towards where the food was set up. “You guys can chat here, but I’m gonna get my cookies’ worth—”

“You _thought_ we were going let you go on your own—”

“I’ve been waiting a year for this, I’m not wasting any more time—"

Even huffed a laugh as he watched all the boys began to shift in the general direction of the food table. At the last minute though, a thought occurred to him and he quickly reached out and held Elias back.

Elias blinked up at him in surprise. “What’s up?”

“I just…” Even shifted a little. “I just haven’t seen you in a while. How are things going, with school and work and all?”

Although he looked a little surprised, Elias looked touched. “Awesome,” he said, a smile on his face. “They’re going great. Did better on my finals this semester than I’d thought, and uh, Mikael and I have been actually filling out forms and stuff for that company we’d been talking about starting for the freelance work.”

“Seriously?! That’s great!” The company was something Elias and Mikael had been talking about for _ages_ , ever since they’d graduated. The fact that they were finally strapping down and getting it to work was a Christmas miracle in itself.

“And, uh,” Even searched Elias’ face. “You’re happy? With all your work and school and all?”

Elias looked confused, but he nodded nonetheless. “I am,” he said, and there was a sincerity in the way he said it that quenched all of Even’s fears.

“Good,” Even said. He patted Elias on the shoulder. “I just…I don’t want you doing something you’re not happy with, you know? Because it’s not worth it.”

Elias now looked more confused than ever, but he shrugged it off after a moment. “I’ll try my best,” he joked. “But right now, your gingerbread cookies are what’s going to make me happy, so I’m gonna go.” And with that and a clap on the back, he was off in the direction of the food table.

Even trailed after him, but was soon sidetracked by some other friends stopping him to say hi and catch up. By the time Even had made it to the table of food himself, there was no sign of any of his friends, but his box of cookies (which had originally carried over fifty cookies) now only carried what looked to be no more than ten.

“I hope I made enough,” he said, more to himself than anything. But at his words, the person standing closest to his right turned to look at him.

“Even!”

Even turned to see Jonas grinning at him from under his curly-haired mop of dark hair. “Jonas,” he said, grinning. “I haven’t seen you in a while, how’ve you been?”

“Good, good.” Jonas nodded at the cookies. “Also, I can tell you right now that you probably did make enough, but because _someone’s_ been eating them all, they’re all gone.” And then before Even could respond, Jonas turned, stuck a hand into the crowd, and seemingly yanked Isak out of the blue.

“What the _fuck_ , Jonas?!” Isak protested, stumbling over and slapping at his arm where Jonas had it in a death grip. “Let me go, what the hell is up with—” Isak abruptly cut off when his eyes fell on Even standing before them. “Even. Hi.”

“Hi.” There it was again – the little flutter of nervousness in Even’s chest.

“He’s eaten about twenty of your cookies since we’ve come here,” Jonas announced.

“Shut up,” Isak said, finally yanking his arm out of Jonas’ grasp for good. “Seven,” he added in Even’s direction, sheepish. “I’ve eaten seven. Not _twenty_ , what the fuck.”

“That’s your eighth, then,” Jonas said, pointing out the cookie Isak held in his hand. And then turning back to Even he said, “It’s crazy. It’s all he’s eaten so far. He hasn’t even eaten any of the actual food or drink. He’s literally in love with—”

“We’re leaving,” Isak announced loudly, grabbing ahold of Even’s arm and towing the two of them away from a laughing Jonas.

Even happily followed Isak as he pulled them away, too occupied with the warmth of Isak’s hand on his arm to focus on where they were even going. But as it was, Isak simply brought them to the other end of the room, where the party was a little quieter and less populated.

“So,” Even said teasingly when Isak had let go of him, “You liked the cookies?”

Isak groaned, running his free hand over his face and hair. “I swear it’s not as bad as he made it sound.”

Even laughed, leaning back against the doorframe. “I think it’s sweet,” he said. “I’m glad you like them so much.”

Isak mirrored his position, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah? Glad enough to give me the recipe?”

“Oh, that I can’t do.” Even winked. “It’s a family trade secret.”

Isak laughed. “Worth a shot. I can’t cook for shit, anyway.” He took another bite of the cookie he held in his hand, looking at it broodingly for a moment before sighing. “Jonas wasn’t lying, though. These are all I’ve eaten tonight and I’ve eaten about seven already,” He frowned at the cookie for another second before rolling his eyes. “But fuck it. It’s Christmas, and you have to live life in the now. I can regret this later.”

Even felt a chill go down his spine.

“Just curious, do you only make these for Christmas?” Isak went on. “Or do you also—”

“What did you say?”

Isak blinked, looking a little startled. “I mean, you don’t…you don’t _have_ to make them outside of Christmas, I was just asking—”

“No, no,” Even laughed a little, and he knew he sounded breathless. “Before that. You said fuck it, and to live life—”

“—oh, to live life in the now, yeah,” Isak was smiling in confusion. “Why?”

“Nothing, I just…” Even shook his head, unable to describe what he was feeling. In the back of his mind, a dim memory stirred. Of an angel, a fish tank, a dimly lit room, the press of a nose to a temple…

“It’s just that I think I used to know someone who used to say that,” Even said slowly. “And you just…reminded me.”

“Oh.” Isak shrugged with a small chuckle. “Yeah, I mean…it’s a nice motto, I guess? Especially for when you want to convince yourself that eating seven cookies in one hour is okay.”

“Actually, that’s a motto I’ve really needed, recently.”

Isak tilted his head in question. “Rough start to the holiday season?”

Even snorted. “You could say that.”

“You’re not the only one,” Isak said, a bleak smile on his face. He nibbled at his cookies for a quiet moment before looking back up. “What happened?” he asked, tone hesitant.

Even blinked. There was a part of him that was still a little embarrassed by the situation, but there was another part of him that actually didn’t mind telling Isak. Maybe it was the idealist in him, but somehow he didn’t think Isak wouldn’t judge him for his failures.

“I mean if you – if you don’t mind me asking,” Isak said quickly, seeming apprehensive by Even’s silence. “It’s okay if you don’t, I’d completely understand.”

“No, no,” Even felt a nervous laugh escape his mouth. “I don’t mind, I just…” he stared intently at the ground. “I didn’t get into the dream film school program I’d been hoping to get into. And then there was this film festival. I had some friends who told me that it wasn’t a tough competition at all, to submit my work to it and that it would be easy and that I’d definitely be accepted for my film to be screened. But I didn’t get it, and…I don’t know.” He shrugged, still unable to meet Isak’s eyes.

Isak made a noise of sympathy. “That sounds…really shitty.”

To his surprise, Even felt himself laugh. Shitty didn’t even begin to cover it, but it was the closest thing that came to describing it so far. “Yeah, I mean…it was all I’d been setting my hopes up for a year, you know? Every extra shift I picked up and everything, it was all for school. I felt like I’d been doing everything right, and when it all came crashing down at once, I kind of felt really…empty. Like, what am I doing this all for, you know? It just felt like a waste.”

Isak was quiet for so long that Even finally forced himself to meet his eyes to see what he was thinking. The emotion Even saw there, however, wasn’t what he’d expected – it wasn’t pity, it wasn’t sadness, and it wasn’t sympathy. It was something more intense, an emotion Even couldn’t describe. But the intensity of the gaze wasn’t something Even could handle, so he went back to looking at the ground.

“Hey,” Isak said finally, reaching out with his foot to nudge Even’s until Even looked back up. His voice was gentle. “You know Albert Einstein got rejected from his dream school, too?”

Even blinked in surprise. “He did?”

“Mhm. Didn’t pass the test to get in. And he still ended up discovering the theory of relativity. You know he didn’t even win his Nobel till he was forty years old?”

“So,” Even raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying I’m not going to be successful till I’m forty?”

Isak huffed a laugh. “All I’m saying is that you’re still young, you know? It’s okay if you fuck up or aren’t where you want to be. You just have to take it day by day and do the best you can. That’s the best any of us can do.”

Even swallowed. Emotions he couldn’t describe had welled up within him, but all he could bring himself to choke out was, “Thank you.”

Isak seemed to understand anyway. He nudged Even’s foot again. “Think I could see your film sometime?”

Even smiled. “Of course. I’ll give you the director’s commentary bonus, too.”

Isak raised his eyebrows and held up the little bit of the gingerbread cookie leftover in his hand. “Will you be making these?”

“Will it make you like the movie more?”

“Oh, definitely, yes. One hundred percent.”

Even laughed, looking back down to where Isak’s shoe was still touching Even’s. When he met Isak’s eyes again, his mouth spoke of its own accord before his brain could catch up. “It’s a date, then?”

Isak’s mouth parted for a moment in surprise, and then he closed it, lips curling into a shy smile.

“It’s a date,” he agreed.

They smiled at one another stupidly for a while, and probably would have for ages, had a loud wolf whistle not shattered their moment. Even turned his head to see Mikael standing on one of the chairs on the other side of the room, giving the two of them shit-eating grins.

“You guys know the rules!” he called out to them, pointedly nodding his head at something above them.

Even followed his line of sight…right to the branch of mistletoe strung under the doorway over him and Isak.

Even could feel his cheeks flooding with heat right away – immediately cursing the day he had ever thought it was a good idea to tell Mikael about his crush on Isak. Beside Mikael stood Jonas, who made sloppy kissing noises at them that were loud enough to be heard on the other side of the room.

“What?” Mikael said defensively, holding his hands out when Even glared at him. “It’s not _my_ fault. You guys literally walked right into this one.”

He was causing a loud enough scene that now most of the party was now watching Isak and Even in amusement. Face warmer than Even could possibly ever remember it being, he glanced at Isak. It was comforting to see that his face seemed to be just as red as Even’s.

“Kiss him!” giggled a blonde girl with a red bow in her hair from beside Sana. And that was all it took: suddenly the entire party was cheering them on, shouts of “Kiss him, kiss him!” and “You know the rules!” and the sounds of Elias and Mutta and Adam joining in with Jonas in making ridiculous smacking sounds with their lips, Youself winking at him from where he stood beside an amused Sana, and over it all, the sound of Mikael exasperatedly calling out, “If you don’t kiss him, Even, then I will! Do you want him traumatized for life?”

Across from him, Isak’s gaze, filled with mirth, flickered up to the mistletoe, and then back to Even’s eyes. And standing there in the middle of it all, Even felt so much more alive than he had in so long that he wanted to laugh aloud with joy. His heart was thudding nervously in his ears, his blood was rushing through his veins, he could smell the spices of gingerbread and gløgg in the air, and he could hear the ringing of a tinkling laugh like windchimes in his ear.

_Remember, your life is now. You are your own director. You get to decide what you do with it._

With a small smile on his lips, Isak raised an eyebrow at him.

Even held his breath, and he leaned in.

Isak met him halfway.

And in that moment, his heart full to the brim, with the cheers of the crowd around them, the feel of Isak’s lips that were _finally_ against his – Even could not have been more happy in that moment to simply be able to exist.

**Author's Note:**

> Link to my tumblr post for this fic [here!](https://kapplebougher.tumblr.com/post/168782579014/its-a-wonderful-life-kapplebougher-skam-tv)


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